I'm Chuck Bass
by gala-granger
Summary: A beautiful woman appears every month, same time, same place. Chuck wonders who this mystery woman might be.


**Title:** I'm Chuck Bass

**Summary:** A beautiful woman appears every month, same time, same place. Chuck wonders who this mystery woman might be.

**Author:** Gala-Granger

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Gossip Girl. They belong to Cecily von Ziegesar and the CW.

**Language:** English.

**Category:** Romance.

This fic wasn't properly betaed, so please forgive my mistakes!

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**I'm Chuck Bass**

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**September 22nd, 20-**

She comes into the bar, dressed to kill (short gray shiny dress; high-heeled sandals with straps), bag in hand (Gucci bag, classy), with an attitude. She sits down at a table by the window and orders a Cosmopolitan, then takes out a small notebook and a beautiful pen and, while sipping her drink, absentmindedly scribbles on the page, words, maybe sentences, perhaps a story. She, once in a while, looks around, seeing everything and nothing. Her stare is out the window.

He comes into the bar, perfectly dressed, as usual, (expensive black suit, white Yves-Saint-Laurent shirt, gray silk bow tie). He's looking for some hot girl to spend the night with, probably send her home afterwards, and never see her again. He's a young dandy with cash to burn. He sits on the bar, orders a whisky on the rocks and checks out the scene, searching for the lady of the night. His eye gets caught by a beautiful girl seating by the window, writing.

"May I sit down?" he asks.

"Why not?" and she smiles.

"I'm Chuck Bass," he says in his lovely voice.

"My name's Mimí," she says and shakes his hand.

"Let me say, Mimí, that you look ravishing tonight."

"Why, thank you."

"May I freshen your drink?"

"Yes, please," and he orders another round. She looks out the window and keeps writing.

"I hope you don't mind my asking, what are you doing?" he seems rather curious.

"Documenting whatever random thought I have."

He gives her an intense look and a shiver goes through her entire body. Oh yes, he's definitely hot. The flirting continues for a while, though never touching. Suddenly, he grabs her hand and she feels her body getting out of control.

"Spend the night with me," he whispers, still holding her hand. She nods and utters a weak "yes". They're already on their way.

His limo is waiting outside; the champagne cold and dry on the back seat. Foreplay begins. She pulls his tie; he caresses her knee; she whispers hot, wet, dirty words in his ear; he kisses, licks her neck; she moves her hand gently and then faster and more savagely up and down his leg, thighs, groin; he pulls her to his lap.

And suddenly they stop. The car has reached its destination, the Empire Hotel (which he owns). Top floor, lovely view of the dark city and its shiny lights. The suite is beautiful, art deco, comfortable. He pushes her to the couch and they continue where they left off. Kissing, touching, squeezing. They move to his room and he lies on the bed. He wants to see her strip off all of her clothes.

"Is this okay, Mr. Chuck?" and she unzips her dress.

It falls to her feet and she kicks it off sexily. The sandals are next. One by one the straps are undone and the footwear dangles a few seconds in her hand before being thrown to some distant corner of the room. He reaches for her and takes her to bed with him. The loud night is filled with one more scream of ecstasy.

"Mimí, now that's a curious name," he says stroking her hair.

"If you say so, Mr. Chuck. Tonight everything you say is true," she smiles.

"Mr. Chuck…" and he traces off.

She kisses him and they softly drift into sleep.

The next morning, when he wakes up, she is gone. All that's left is a note.

_Had a lot of fun, M. _

He would never see her again, and yet, he had the odd feeling that he might.

* * *

**October 22nd, 20-**

Her black blouse opens a little while she pushes the door, causing a few heads to turn. With matching shorts and boots, her other hand carries a black bag (Chanel, this time). She once again sits at a table by the window (the same as last time, of course) and takes out her pen and notebook. The waiter asks her what she would like to drink and her answer is a Manhattan, please. Drinking, sipping, writing commences.

His suit is gray, his shirt pink, his handkerchief purple silk polka-dotted. He goes straight for the bar and the whisky on the rocks is in his hand again. He scans the crowd 'till he sees an amazing woman sitting by the window, absentmindedly sipping her drink and writing.

"Mind if I sit?" She merely nods, without paying much attention to him.

"Have we met yet?" he asks.

"I don't think we have," and she smiles.

"I'm Chuck Bass," he says.

"My name's Lizzie," and shakes his hand.

"Lizzie… that's a lovely name," and he flashes a devious smile. "Would you like to join me in this private party I have to attend?"

She closes her notebook and looks at him for a while. Their eyes meet, his heart races (where have I seen those eyes? I know I've seen them before), her knees tremble (why does he have to be so goddamn beautiful? Why?!).

"Sure," is her answer and they leave the bar and into the limo, into the night, into the hotel they go. She acts as if she's never seen any of it before; as if it were the first time they met. Stroking, pulling, kissing, caressing, clothes falling, ripping, touching, licking, squeezing.

"So, how do you like the party, Lizzie?"

"Oh, very much, Mr. Bass. I'm really enjoying it."

He falls asleep, they're cuddling. She smiles and gently strokes his hair. Outside it's morning. As carefully as she can, she gets out of bed, dressed and out to the living room.

"Good morning," his roommate greets her.

"Good morning to you too," she sounds cheerful.

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"No, thank you."

"Haven't I seen you around here before?"  
"I don't think so. It's my first time here," and she laughs as the elevator door closes.

The note on the pillow reads

_One heck of a party, L._

* * *

**November 22nd, 20-**

Jean is the new sexy, or at least she makes it so. Skin tight deep blue jeans with a shiny purple strapless. The bag is Dolce & Gabanna. Her usual table by the window waits for her, her notebook and pen are already in use when her Sidecar arrives.

Whisky on the rocks with a lovely black and white suit, silver bow tie and an attitude, of course. He scans the room and finds her already sitting there. He has the feeling he's done this before (maybe he's getting into a rut).

"I'm Chuck Bass and I noticed that a pretty girl like you is sitting all alone. I can't help but wonder why."

"Oh please, sit down then," and she smiles, closing the notebook.

"And you are…?"

"Violetta. Very nice to meet you, Chuck Bass."

"Very nice indeed," while checking her out.

"So, what can I do for you?" she looks at him.

"Well, I was thinking something along the lines of coming to my hotel and spending the night with me." She smiles, but looks down, hiding her eyes. A sudden glow has appeared in them.

"Very well, then. It's settled. When shall we go?"

"Right about now, if it's okay with you," and he offers his hand.

"Fine with me," and she takes it.

Limo's outside. Champagne, kissing, partying. The hotel room isn't empty (and he sounds busy), but it doesn't bother them. They can be louder. Sex is great, fulfilling.

In the morning, she gets dressed really quietly, no need to wake him. A soft kiss good-bye and it's time to go. The room is silent as she leaves.

"_It's been great, V_," he reads to his roommate. "And I still get the feeling she's been here before."

"I thought you knew when it was the same girl."

"That's the thing, she's always different. Never the same drink, never the same name."

"And yet same time, same place."

"Every month, like clockwork."

"We'll see if she's there next time."

* * *

**December 22nd, 20-**

"I'm Chuck Bass."

"Hi, my name's Odile."

"What are you having?"

"A Long Island Iced Tea, please."

"Whisky on the rocks."

The notebook closes, the door opens.

"Oh, Bass."

"Oh, Odile."

_Lovely night, O._

"Man, I've got to catch her before she leaves."

* * *

**January 22nd, 20-**

"Happy new year," he whispers in her ear, making her jump slightly.

"Why, thank you, Mr. …"

"I'm Chuck Bass," and his most charming smile is already showing.

"You know, I have to say, Chuck Bass, that your pick up line is rather unusual."

"How so?"

"It's not something you would say to a stranger on January 22nd," and she laughs.

"Oh, it's just that I have the feeling we've met before and we still haven't seen each other this New Year."

"Have we? I'm positive I've never seen you before," but her smile says otherwise. The waiter approaches.

"What are you having?"

"A Screwdriver, please," she smiles.

"Whisky on the rocks, thank you," and the waiter comes back with the drinks.

"I hope you don't mind my asking why you keep coming every month on the same day, same time, to write."

"No reason," she looks amused. "Or maybe the same reason why you keep showing up."

"So, what shall I call you tonight?"

"My name's Copelia," and she smiles.

"Will I ever get to know your real name?"

"What makes you think I haven't told you my real name?"

"For starters, that smile," and he smiles too. "And the fact that every time we meet, your name's different."

"Perhaps I've told my real name, but it's hidden in between the others. Or maybe I have more than one name."

"Why not tell me?" he seems frustrated.

"What's life without a little mystery?"

"All right, mystery woman, I'll keep playing your game. I happen to enjoy them."

"I know you do," and her smile says more than her words. There's a gleam in her eyes which she has to hide if she's to keep on playing. Ah, it's such a crime to fall in love.

They talk some more without actually saying anything, but he's happy to at least get to know her a little. He's never entirely sure of her telling the truth, but there's something in the way of her words that says she is. Perhaps the only real mystery after all is her name. And what is a name, really? He did try to change his once.

"So, shall we go?" he asks.

"Why not?"

Limo, champagne and the hotel is really not that far away. But this night seems different. They say New Year means a fresh start, and it may be true. She's suddenly tender, not urgent; sweet, not passionate; beautiful, not sexy. He likes it. He likes this new girl he's beginning to know. Maybe… Maybe he can flatter himself by thinking this is the real her, the mystery girl finally revealing herself.

Their embrace is long. She then cuddles her head in the crook of his neck. He leans over and kisses her forehead lovingly (a little more love than intended goes in that kiss) and he sees it, the gleam, those bright eyes, shinning. She closes them and holds him real tight, unwilling to let go. He doesn't mind. He actually likes it, he's enjoying it, he… He loves her. Ah, so it's been love all along.

A weak light wakes him up. It's morning outside. He turns around and there she is, sleeping. He moves closer and hugs her, kisses her neck 'till she starts humming.

"Good morning, Blair," he says softly in her ear.

"Good morning, Chuck," she says turning around to kiss him.

**The End**

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Hope you enjoyed it! And remember reviews are love!


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